


ix

by demios



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 02:19:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11003949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demios/pseuds/demios
Summary: Luthier finds unexpected company.





	ix

**Author's Note:**

> dark fire emblem give luthier the forbidden friends

When Luthier took up the role of soldier, he expected to be marching across Valentia for weeks, maybe even months. He was prepared to bid his village farewell for a while yet (perhaps even _forever_ , if fate dealt him an unkind hand) - he didn’t anticipate returning home so quickly, the sight of the small village hidden in the woods surprising him as Alm led their march.

They’ve stopped in Luthier’s hometown for a rest; the young leader of the Deliverance decided their weapons needed forging in preparation for the upcoming battle. The scouts brought grave news – the Rigelian prince Berkut was waiting for them just across the border.

Alm offered the mage an apology for imposing on his home once again. Luthier has no complaint. He’s sworn fealty to Alm and owes him the debt of a lifetime for saving his sister. It’s also soothing to be home again; he finds solace in the village they’ve lived in all their life. Delthea begs to differ, however.

He thought at the very least being home would make his sister settle down (he attributed some of her recklessness on the battlefield to the stress of not having seen home since she was abducted), but she remained as lively as ever, if not moreso. Her restlessness seems to have worsened and left victims in its wake; for instance, Delthea had been harassing their other resident mage, Kliff, who appeared just as standoffish as Luthier when the girl was chattering his ear off. Just last night during dinner, she plopped herself down next to him on the log he was sitting on, then proceeded to start a ruckus with Gray and Clair from across the campfire.

Luthier is rather lacking in companions to do the same with, and has instead taken to leaning against trees to watch his sister’s chaos unfold. He doesn’t feel any pressing need to inconvenience others the same way she does. Delthea once called him a hermit because he’d rather dedicate a day to honing his magic through studying than actually leaving the house. Well, there’s nothing wrong with being a hermit. There’s even an arcana dedicated to it – why, it symbolizes-

“Hi, Luthier,” A soft voice cuts into his thoughts and he turns his head to identify who it is.

“Ah, Kliff.” He nods in greeting. While Luthier doesn’t talk to the boy as much as his sister, they’ve shared a few conversations on the battlefield. He’s taken Delthea’s advice on conversing with others – the occasional compliment escapes him when some notable feat is accomplished by one of his comrades. He admires Kliff’s skill with magic, especially after being told he hadn’t been practicing for very long. Luthier is unsure why Kliff has approached him now, though.

The older suspects it has something to do with Delthea’s pestering, and he feels a faint annoyance nestle itself in the back of his mind. His posture straightens. “Is this about Delthea? I know she’s been a bit overbearing as of late; do forgive her, she’s still young…”

Though Kliff doesn’t look much older than her, if Luthier is being quite honest. If it were not for the fact Alm mentioned they were around the same age, Luthier would have mistaken him for younger due to his shorter stature.

“No, it’s not about that.” Kliff shakes his head. Luthier is momentarily reminded of a sheep in need of shearing. “This is your village, isn’t it? And since you’ve studied magic for some time, I assume you’re in possession of quite a number of books?”

The question catches Luthier off guard, namely because most members of the Deliverance showed little interest in academia, and even less in Luthier himself. Forsyth once told him his father was a scholar, but the man clarified he would rather be a knight than stick his nose in dusty books all day. Python said it required too much brainpower to read. There generally wasn’t anyone who shared his interests in their band of soldiers. Delthea says this is because he’d established himself as an asocial eccentric; Luthier is not quite sure what she means by that.

“That is correct.” Luthier brushes a lock of hair behind his ear to better get a look at the boy, his bangs still slightly obscuring his vision. “As you know, my sister and I are of a line of distinguished mages; our family has studied magic for generations and recorded our findings as well. It may not be as vast as the fabled library at Zofia castle, but our collection is just as valuable.”

“I see.” Kliff fiddles with a stray cowlick between his fingers, eyes glancing off to the side. The boy seems to possess only one facial expression, his face rarely contorting in all the ways Delthea’s does. Still, he looks like he wants to say something. It’s somewhat like how his sister acts skittish when she intends to wheedle a favor out of her older brother, just to a less obnoxious degree.

Interpreting subtlety isn’t Luthier’s forte – _You wouldn’t know a hint if a pegasus dropped it on your head_ , Delthea always chides him – but he is skilled at deduction. “Did you approach me with the intent to access our library, perchance?”

Kliff’s gaze slides back to focus on him, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. “Um, yeah. I really like reading, so…”

Luthier’s lips curve upwards at the other’s words. He always did see Kliff tucked away in some corner of camp with a book, now that he thought about it. “I, too, enjoy reading and the like. Very well, then. Follow me.”

Luthier removes himself from the tree and brushes his cape aside. Though he was at home, he hadn’t intended on returning to his abode. He thought it would be best if he stayed near the entrance with the rest of the soldiers, in case they had to mobilize quickly. He beckons Kliff with one hand and strides towards the empty square. People rarely stayed outside anymore; though Desaix’s forces and a number of bandits had been chased off by the Deliverance, it was always better to be safe than sorry.

Despite their bloodline descending from one of Zofia’s great figures, their house is rather unassuming when gazed upon from the outside. Some generations ago, his ancestors had decided to keep the secret of their blood well-guarded rather than aiding Zofian royalty as they did in the past. Luthier isn’t sure when or why the change happened, but he thinks he’s happier living an uneventful life in obscurity rather than serving nobles.

The interior of the house is dark and notably devoid of life. Luthier still aches with loss – when Tatarrah sent his men to wrest Delthea from their family’s grasp, their parents suffered the consequences during one of his attempts.

He pushes the feeling down. He should be grateful he hasn’t lost everything. Delthea is still beside him, and he even has the chance to enact justice on those who wronged him. Mila has set forth many an arduous challenge, but he cannot afford to waver now. Not when Delthea and Alm and the rest of his comrades are depending on him.

Luthier searches for a candle and lights it with one finger, setting it down on the desk of the study. It illuminates the area just enough to reveal some of the many shelves packed to the brim with books and notes. Ah, how Luthier missed the comfort of this room. He could spend many a day in here without care for the outside world. But, well, he supposes he can’t afford to be so blithe about things anymore when the fate of Valentia was to be determined.

The presence of dust makes him clear his throat as he lights another candle. “Please feel free to read to your heart’s content.” He hands it to Kliff so the boy can better navigate around the maze of bookshelves. “Our collection used to be more robust, but all the pillaging from bandits has taken a bit of a toll on some of the volumes. If you need help finding anything specific, simply call upon me.”

The boy nods and doesn’t hesitate to make his way around. If Luthier didn’t know better, he’d say Kliff’s normally composed nature has a bit of added energy to it, if the energetic footsteps against the floorboards were anything to go by. Luthier takes the chance to illuminate the rest of the room until he no longer has to squint to see.

While Kliff is selecting tomes from a shelf, Luthier reaches for one of the familiar books on the desk after making himself comfortable. It’s not so much a book as it is a loosely bound collection of notes kept by a previous member of their family, one detailing an unfinished thesis for the inheritance of magical ability and selectivity among spells. Despite its lack of official publication, Luthier found its worth to be unmatched.

He spent hours poring over the contents and attempted his own research about the subject given what resources he had, once even begging his parents to take him along to town when there were merchants present. He hoped to finish what previous generations had started; Delthea said she found his dedication ironic because Luthier wasn’t likely to find anyone to pass on his magical blood with.

His thoughts drift to Kliff; beginners often had difficulty drawing forth magic from the spirits, yet he seemed to have no difficulty, much like Luthier’s sister. He sets down the bound notes and shifts in his chair, finding the boy with a few books under one arm. “You seem to have a considerable gift for magic. Does your bloodline consist of mages as well?”

“Not really.” Kliff shrugs as he examines one shelf. “My mother wanted us to live like normal folk. She doesn’t talk about her family a lot.”

“Is that so?” How intriguing. He thought all who possessed the gift in their family would have embraced it. “Delthea and I lived like any of the other villagers, the only difference being the integration of magic into our education. There wasn’t a school nearby, but our entire family trained us in the ways of magic since we were young.”

“I’ve… never really had anyone to teach me magic.” Kliff pauses. “Alm’s grandfather offered me a bit of guidance and old tomes from his travels, but he couldn’t do more than that. I mean, there’s my mother, but…”

“Oh? Is your mother is the one who passed her abilities to you?” That was how it had been for Delthea and him, given their magically potent ancestor was a woman and the magic was more likely to be passed down through daughters. Having a son proficient in magic from a sorceress wasn’t uncommon; perhaps he and Kliff shared the same position.

“Yes, but she and I didn’t share the same views when it came to magic.” The other frowns, his nose scrunching up the barest amount. “Magic doesn’t put bread on the table, she’d say when I asked her about it. These days she only uses glamors to make herself appear younger when she makes the trip into town.”

The boy sighs quietly. It… hadn’t struck Luthier that not all magic users were in search of some grand hidden truth or even wanted to preserve their trade. He thought Delthea was the exception, and that her flippant attitude regarding magic was simply an outlier. Though, no one could blame him; he had only his family for reference. Finding another who shared her views wasn’t an impossibility, but it certainly hadn’t crossed his mind. Even if one did not hold a Zofian legacy in their blood, he couldn’t imagine one outright shunning the gift of magic.

“I’m afraid I can’t fully understand the feeling,” Luthier says, a bit at loss for words. How could he, when he grew up in such drastically different circumstances? “But you have my condolences.”

“It’s fine.” Kliff busies himself with extracting another book from its snug place on one shelf. He then places his selected titles on the desk Luthier is sitting at, taking a seat across from him. “It’s all in the past now. And I’ve been getting by just fine without a teacher, wouldn’t you say?”

“That much is true.” All the experience he accumulated certainly honed his skill without an instructor. His achievements on the battlefield were plenty proof of that. Still, to go through life without knowing about the ability one wielded… the boy deserved some sort of elucidation of his art. “Ah, well… perhaps I could offer you some guidance? I don’t doubt your ability, but I do think you could benefit from what knowledge I could impart unto you. At the very least, let me give to you what Delthea refuses to accept.”

“You’d do that for me?” Astonishment tinges his voice. True surprise is evident under Kliff’s messy bangs.

“Of course. You are my comrade, after all.” And perhaps a friend, is the thought that crosses his mind a moment afterwards. Kliff isn’t difficult to talk to, much to the older’s surprise. He wouldn’t mind holding conversation more often outside of battles. “Er, my tutelage is by no means professional. It pales in the comparison to others who could possibly teach you, so do take it with a grain of salt.”

“Such as?”

“Have you heard of Khadein’s magic school?”

“I’ve read about it.” Kliff brings one hand to his chin in recollection. “It’s located across the ocean in Archanea, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Yes, well… in the time I’ve spent with the Deliverance, I’ve come to realize that magic cannot be honed through independent study alone.” He had seen magic wielded in all sorts of ways on the battlefield not recorded in the tomes he spent years reading. At one point he was sure all he needed was books to immerse himself in knowledge; exposure to comrade and foe alike made him reconsider his views. “After this war is over, I’m planning on traveling to Khadein. I believe that should help me broaden my horizons.”

“Boraden your horizons, huh…” The boy echoes thoughtfully.

“Have you given any thought to what you intend to do after the war?”

“That’s thinking pretty far ahead, you know.” Kliff isn’t wrong; this war last could months more, maybe even years. “I haven’t given much thought about it. But I know for sure I won’t be able to return to an idle life in the village.”

“Why is that?” Luthier had no problem with residing at home and assumed Kliff would feel the same, given his rather reserved mannerisms.

“I’ve already seen so much of Zofia and now we’re about to step foot into Rigel. I thought I wasn’t suited for adventuring before Alm dragged me along. Now I’ve learned and experienced so much that simply letting it deteriorate for a quiet life on the farm seems… wrong.”

Now that is something Luthier is able to understand. Letting knowledge waste away is a sin, despite how Mila may have endorsed decadence.

“Then why not travel to Khadein as well?” The suggestion passes his lips before he can stop himself, the words unexpected to his ears. However, it seems to have piqued Kliff’s interest, the boy giving him an expectant look.

Luthier quickly elaborates. “The school is a sanctuary of academia. I’m sure you’d make a fine student and if nothing else, you’ll be on foreign soil once more.” A quiet chuckle escapes the mage. “Perhaps you could accompany me. I’m confident in my own abilities, but having two magic wielders would ensure safe passage when the sea is rife with pirates.”

“Now that might be _too_ far ahead.” Kliff’s voice is deadpan, but his lips form a wry smile. “But… hmm… that might not be a bad idea. I’ll think about it.” He then picks up one book and makes his intention to end the conversation clear, his attention focused on the pages instead of Luthier.

Luthier follows suit, resuming from the place he stopped previously. A smile touches his lips in spite of his concentration on a particularly detailed passage and he finds his thoughts straying once more. Broadening horizons with another… the phrase sounds unusual when repeated in his head. The prospect is completely unlike anything he’s ever attempted. He spares a glance at Kliff, who seems absolutely enraptured by the literature in his hands. Luthier silently hopes this quiet yet pleasant company is only a prelude to what lies ahead, and returns to reading with a warmth in his chest.


End file.
